Beneath her feet, the first blades of spring grass are starting to push themselves through the mud. She pauses now and then to take a mouthful of the more plentiful ones, but she is not truly hungry, only bored. The trip form the Meadow to the Chamber is longer than she had expected, though much of her time had been spent staring down at the wide plains of Beqanna from the mountains. It all seems so small from up here, she thinks; everyone down there is so very tiny.
But eventually she turns away and her brown-eyed gaze lingers on the burnt black trunks of leafless pines, the remnants of the forests that her mother had told her about as a child. There are young tree, growing between the ashes of their parents, but it will be decades before the kingdom resembles that of the one in her childhood stories.
Closing her eyes, the grullo mare breathes in the smell of rain and soil, and decides that yes – this does seems like a good place. She can picture her mother, young and brown as a doe, leaping over fallen logs with her sister as their mother (Djinni’s grandmother) looked on. She had never met her grandmother, but Djinni feels close to her here, and unconsciously she shifts her appearance until a reincarnation of the Bloody Shouldered queen stands in the forests of the Chamber.
Djinni is smaller, now – barely more than a pony – and her rich dusky coat has faded to a rosy grey with white tobiano patches. She’s not sure of the pattern and so they are not exactly alike, but she knows the bloodmarked bay shoulders well, and wears them proudly on either side. She smiles, pleased with herself, and takes a few more steps forward (accompanied by the soft clink of her bracelets), crossing over the boarder of the Chamber in the process.
current form: greyed bay tobiano, lightly-built mare, blood marks on both shoulders, 15hh
But eventually she turns away and her brown-eyed gaze lingers on the burnt black trunks of leafless pines, the remnants of the forests that her mother had told her about as a child. There are young tree, growing between the ashes of their parents, but it will be decades before the kingdom resembles that of the one in her childhood stories.
Closing her eyes, the grullo mare breathes in the smell of rain and soil, and decides that yes – this does seems like a good place. She can picture her mother, young and brown as a doe, leaping over fallen logs with her sister as their mother (Djinni’s grandmother) looked on. She had never met her grandmother, but Djinni feels close to her here, and unconsciously she shifts her appearance until a reincarnation of the Bloody Shouldered queen stands in the forests of the Chamber.
Djinni is smaller, now – barely more than a pony – and her rich dusky coat has faded to a rosy grey with white tobiano patches. She’s not sure of the pattern and so they are not exactly alike, but she knows the bloodmarked bay shoulders well, and wears them proudly on either side. She smiles, pleased with herself, and takes a few more steps forward (accompanied by the soft clink of her bracelets), crossing over the boarder of the Chamber in the process.
current form: greyed bay tobiano, lightly-built mare, blood marks on both shoulders, 15hh
D J I N N I
genie | rose gold tobiano dun | trickster